


Trips to the Past

by JenovaVII



Series: Han (Ma) Universe [2]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:37:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenovaVII/pseuds/JenovaVII
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to 'Floating In Between, Where Our Worlds Collide'. Collection of one shots (not necessarily in chronological order) narrating events prior to the FIBWOWC time-line, concerning Takaba and Asami - as their evolve into something more - and the people around them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trips To The Past 1.1 – The One Where Sudoh (Finally) Got The Hint (Or Did He?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short, light episode with some unfurling enlightenment to Takaba and his underlying want to stake his claim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time line: Soon after Volume 7 (Pray In Abyss) – Ch.4. (Also, sometime soon after the 'Somnium' chapters of FIBWOWC that still haven't haven't been posted... *looks to the side and scratches her head*)
> 
> A/N: I've always loved possessive!Takaba and thought he would totally be so in canon. Thank you so much Yamane, for finally starting to make him show that side of him. As a side note, I've been internet-less and computer-less. FIBWOWC won't be updated anytime soon as everything's on my hard drive. I got inspired by the latest chapter of VF (God, it's brain melting) and this popped up. I'll be updating this collection (I already have a few more one shots written) whenever I can from my dad's computer.

Asami was late. Like _really_ late. That wasn't uncommon at all but more recently the older man had taken to call Takaba to warn him about his delay. It was a possibility that he could be so immersed in work that he couldn't even make a phone call – it was Asami, after all, the sole ruler of Japan's underworld, and still expanding.

 _ _The thoughts of a distressed housewife.,__ Takaba reprimanded himself. He frowned. Things were getting better between them, incredibly so. They still had stupid arguments and Asami loved teasing the blonde and getting the him all different kinds of upset but it was... fun. Yeah, it was fun. In its own screwed up for all eternity fucked up-ness.

Their dynamic had always been pure electricity; ever since the very first time, on the rooftop. Heart hammering, blood boiling. The rush, the adrenaline. And it was still all there: the hitch of breath as their eyes meet and their gazes lock on nothing but the other; the distance between them gets smaller as their blind feet know - feel - their path in the encounter of the other' location; their private bubbles bump softly, and instead of popping, of bursting open, they mesh together as one; their warm skin, already growing hot with the hungry stares, turns hotter still – it burns, feels like melting, liquid fire through veins; lips mold in synch as hands feels up whip corded muscles and groins rub incessantly, building up the desire more, _more_ - _-_ _ _Fuck. I'm hard.__

He blushed as he closed his eyes and palmed his crotch lightly, a fleeting caress. "Fantasizing about the bastard like a frustrated teenager going through puberty, 'the hell..."

His stomach growled, demanding to be filled. His hand traveled up to rub a circling motion, soothing his whining belly as he eyed the fuming, appetizing dinner he had already set on the table.

Making up his mind, Takaba pressed the lid down - denying the heat from escaping and letting the food cool down - and gives a brief wordless denial looking south, both to his empty stomach and to his half hard erection – the latter being Asami's fault, Takaba found it only fair that the yakuza should be the one to take care of it.

He's opening the door when, all of a sudden, he sneezed loudly, giving a scare even to himself. Reaching back and up, his fingers swooned his sweatshirt by the hood, abducting it from the cloth hook attached to the wall by the entrance. and made a dash grab for his keychain as he kicked his feet inside his permanently tied, old, blue and white sneakers.

He locked the door behind him, pulled the checkered hoodie down his head, ruffling the ash blond threads softly, and started jogging over to Sion, making a gesture upwards with his hand when the concierge said: "Be careful when crossing the road, Asami-sama!"  
  
*

"Everything is in order this time. Don't slip again.", Asami drawled around a half smoked stick of tobacco. "This was the last one of it, correct?", he asked, already knowing the answer, as he returned his pen to his breast pocket and glanced at his watch.

Asami smirked at the prospect o Takaba pouting on the couch by now, knees drawn up to his chest - _-_ no, not both knees, just one - _-_ zapping through the channels, as he waits for him, for them to have their meal together. He smirked more profusely at Takaba jumping from the couch like a water scalded cat to hiss at him as he finally got home, saying he'll never wait for Asami again to eat for he'll get fat should he keep eating at such late hours.

Smashing the end of the dried up of essence cigarette in one second and, in the next, he was already picking up another to be its substitute. It was the last one. He threw the empty carton across the division for it to land on the depths of the trash bin flawlessly.

Sudoh made to light it up for him. The dark haired man stopped him with a dismissal wave and lit it up himself, taking a deep drag while doing so. If he noticed Sudoh's scowl (and he most definitely did) he didn't show any signs of recognizing it. "Do not forget to turn the profits in tomorrow, early evening, without fail. We're done here. You may leave now."

Asami searched for his mobile with one hand as he relieved his addiction in the form of a little paper scroll of the ash at its tip. He typed a short message and skipped down briefly for Takaba's name at the top of the letter A listed contacts. Send.

"Asami-san...", Sudoh said hesitantly, clutching the papers in his grasp. Asami's look, as he let his eyes travel back up to him, asked without speaking, for anyone who were able to see: "What might you still be doing here, planted in the middle of the room. Want me to change the title in your contract from 'Manager' to 'Room Decoration'? A divider, perhaps?"

Was that just the power of his stare or did he actually ask that out loud? Sudoh's inner question remained unanswered as the door was slammed open carelessly with a bang.

A sweaty, panting young man surged, then, followed behind by Kirishima's glasses- No, by Kirishima and his glasses- No! That's not wrong but it's still not quite right, either...

 _ _The kid from the Gym. Asami-san's...__ Sudoh's pretty face couldn't take the pressure from his not totally masked scrunching of eyebrows much longer. He clutched the documents tighter but stopped when he noticed he was just short of damaging them.

"My apologies, Asami-sama. It seems Takaba-kun was in a rush.", Kirishima looked pointedly at Takaba as he indirectly reprimanded the young man's unbecoming behavior, seeing as his employer was looking much too amused to even bother to remind Takaba of the existence of something called 'good manners'.

The mole near Sudoh's lower lip seemed to exhibit psychic powers as the ex host took into his own hands to do exactly that. "Such rude course of action. Who do you think you are, breaking unannounced into Asami's-san's office?"

Kirishima felt like chuckling. The one who didn't seem to know his place was Sudoh himself.

 _ _This guy... Dracaena's manager...__ Takaba recalled the image of the man in front of him clinging to Asami's sleeve - _-_ crying. Then at the Gymnasium, where he had deliberately provoked him, talked him down. __So it__ _is_ _ _like that, huh.__ He saw the longing stares the man tentatively granted Asami with and, with a rising feeling of power, the way he was ignored and forgotten as Asami's entire attention was on _him_  - _-_ Takaba.

...Okay, and maybe a little on Kirishima too, but Takaba hasn't reached Asami level possessiveness, not _yet_. So he can perfectly afford to share the asshole if the other person is Glasses.

"Asa - _-_ " He stops before the last syllable.  
  
 _ _"...Asami-san..."__ He can hear Sudoh's voice in his head. He doesn't like it one bit. Takaba clacks his teeth together once and makes a swift decision.

"Ryuuichi.", he says, voice getting hoarse as he calls his lover by his given name for the first time. He approached Asami and absorbed how black the other man's pupils went, dilating as they devoured a round of gold around them - _-_ black holes, pulling everything in - _-_ the surrounding color - _-_ himself, stripping it all of resistance.

He barely took notice of Kirishima excusing himself with a rather amused tinge to his tone. The gasp caught on Sudoh's throat idem. "How dare you - _-_ "

"I came to get you. Dinner's getting cold and I'm starving. You could've warned me, you damn jerk." Takaba put both his hands on Asami's desk.

The bastard smiled. Sweetly. Or attempting to. "I just texted you."

The photographer let one hand roam to the back of his jeans. Nothing. "...Must've let it at home. Still, 'just' my ass. I was already on my way here, for sure. It would've be useless anyway."

"Hn." Getting up, Asami grasped the handle of his working case, then his jacket, and draped them over his shoulder and down; drowning his free hand in the confines of his black suit trousers pocket. "Let's go."

Traversing the space, circling Sudoh - _-_ who was currently making a nearly perfect imitation of a statue in the center of the room - _-_ and arriving at the door - _-_

"Asami-san!"  
  
Sudoh went to grasp Asami's sleeve but Takaba's fist moved faster, grasping his wrist in a tight grip before Sudoh's hand could connect. "Sudou-san, you know... It's a really bad habit to develop, that one you have - going around touching other people's stuff as you wish."

Takaba's gaze was hard on him, giving no signal of nervousness or humor.

Takaba found himself equally amazed at his sudden and yet calm reaction. It seemed natural, somehow. That didn't bode very well with him either but he guessed giving in to his urge, slightly, just this once... couldn't be too bad.

Asami said nothing still, entirely too amused and - _-_ _Shit._ - _-_ smug looking, leaning against the door frame, sucking on a stick - _-_ as usual. Takaba could feel his smugness craving daggers and digging holes at the same time on the back of his skull. He'd make Asami suck on _his_ stick when they got home... (His stomach growled again, not letting him forget something rather important.) ...after dinner.

Sudoh was speechless, both at the rascal's confidence and at Asami's indulgence of him, letting him run wild and spout whatever he liked as if... as if...

Takaba let go of him and turned around, elbowing Asami lightly on the side, as he exited through the door. Asami separated from the door frame and followed. He didn't bother looking back as he kept strolling forward along the hall and, in his indifferent, ice quality tone threw back something that Sudoh's ears captured as: "I expect you to be more efficient from now on, Sudoh. Leave the door shut after you leave."

Sudoh was left to the silence and darkness that took over the division, gaining roots in the floor. Perhaps by tomorrow he'd have turned into a tree, then a true wooden and naturally crafted room divider, and Asami-san would give him the time of the day.

Not.  
  
*

The now emptied plates crashed to the floor as Takaba pulled Asami on top of him on the dining table.

"So I'm your 'stuff' now, am I?", Asami's husky voice questioned clearly, even as he mouthed the light haired man's throat, teeth prickling the skin it abused into a shivering mess.

"Shut up.", Takaba rasped as he attempted to unbuckle both their belt at once. "If I'm your fucking property,"

Asami rewarded him for his admittance with licks that spread fire from his erect nipples to his now unclothed cock. Takaba traced the outline of Asami's penis on his gray boxers and pumped it twice, using the friction of the fabric before handling both their genitals with ten fingers - securing them, rubbing, thumbing their joined moisture already beginning to drip from the heads.

"then you can suck it up and be my fucking stuff."

Takaba moaned as the taller man crushed their mouths violently, expressing how pleased he was with his boy finally getting, understanding what the feeling of owning - _-_ and belonging - _-_ to someone is all about.

Asami was fucking him with saliva moistened digits and Takaba tightened his grip painfully around their engorged members, making them both groan around each other' tongue. He jerks them off with fast, long strokes, slick with pre come, and just like that their hips falter and fine strings of white substance dotted their abdomens and Takaba's hands.

Asami took his hands in his own and brought them up, scorching tongue lapping at heir joined spent. Takaba shuddered and whimpered at the look in those eyes. It was going to be a long nigh - _-_ He looked at the pointers of Asami's Rolex. - _-_... _dawn_.  
  
*

"Everything's broken. We're gonna have to replace the entire dinnerware. And I kinda liked this one, too. It was simple and didn't look as if it had cost you a fortune."

"Your understanding of the concept 'fortune' is hardly the same as mine, Akihito."

Takaba fumbled around the closet. "D'you know where I left the broom?"

"Leave it. I'll have it cleaned tomorrow."

The blonde was crouched on the floor, looking for the sweeping utensil under the counters, and the fridge, and the stove... as if they were playing hide and seek. The camera boy and the inanimate object. Together.

"You're pretty lazy about trivial, everyday things, Asami. It it weren't for me, and for your maid before me, you'd live like a bum."

He didn't notice Asami closing in on him like a panther studying its prey.

"On second thought, Kirishima-san would go _completely_ nutcase, being the perfectionist he is, he'd never allow his 'Asami-sama' to live in such conditions.", he mumbled under his breath. Asami prevented a laugh.

"At any rate, I'm not about to leave those shards all around. We'll step on them and get hurt and I don't care what arguments you use - _-_ I'm not _that_ much of a masochis - _-_ WAAA!"

Asami picked him up and tossed him over his shoulder, much like a human sized bag of potatoes, and slapped his ass once for his struggles. "Then I'll just have to try my best to keep you in bed until there are no more imminent danger to your very important feet."

He made his point by throwing the lighter male onto the bed and tickling his feet until Takaba was crying and laughing and begging for mercy. Then he licked him all over, from the sole of his left foot - _-_ where he had a tiny, barely visible to the naked eye scar between his big toe and and the next - _-_ to the inner, wet roof of his mouth, and pretty much made sure Takaba wouldn't be able to get up on his ass anytime soon.


	2. Trips To The Past 1.2 – The One Where Takato And Kou (And, As A Consequence, All Of Takaba's Friends) Found Out (Except They Already Suspected)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takato takes the reigns of the situation and attempts to maintain his position as the only sane man among lunatics, and... conspiring with his best friend' bastard of a boyfriend while he's at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Some time after they started living together (end of Volume 6 – Escape & Love); only in my story, after Takaba lived with Asami for a while until things calmed down with the Ai-chan scandal he left the penthouse and returned to his apartment. Eventually, after events that will be narrated in FIBWOWC, they start living together permanently.
> 
> A/N: I strongly dislike referring to Takaba by his first name, as well as by his nick – Aki. It's already more than enough that I have to do it when the characters themselves refer to him for the sake of staying in character. I wrote this piece like I usually do – calling him Takaba when from the Narrator' POV – but it just... didn't fit. I blame Takato's name. It feels weird: Takaba... Takato... Takaba. It's not even confusing or whatever, it's just plain annoying. Uff, that was some nonsensical stress right there. Just 'cause I love how 'Takaba' sounds. So I made up for it by typing it six times just on this note (and I still pushed for it at least twice in the fic, yeah!). Oh and any similarities, somewhere near the end, to Volume 4 - Loveprize 2 'The Labor Cameraman, Takaba's Wonderful Day' are on purpose~

The fifth of May.

It was Akihito's birthday. Again.

So, we already knew that whenever Akihito gets drunk he gets loud(er), (even more) idiotic, horny(/ier), weeps and sniffs and produces large amounts of snot that free fall from his nostrils while he watches 'Heidi' and the like in the company of random grannies, breaks the fourth wall without care and... makes calls on the phone non stop.

Takato asked himself the reason for Akihito having to celebrate his birth every year without rest even when he never really grows up, mentally speaking. Think of it as a continuous repeat - _-_ an endless loop - _-_ of that cursed New Year' Eve. Only worse. If you think of a Greek-o-Roman orgy and multiply it for +∞, you still will be light years away from the degree of depravity Akihito's birthday parties have the potential to reach.

And it escalates each passing year.

Kou and Yoshida always, _always_ go along, welcoming and even encouraging it. Takato - _-_ being the only one who actually uses the left part of his brain to, you know, think - thought it was about time he put a stop to the annually chaotic event. Akihito was turning twenty four, had been finally taking fairly steady and not so life endangering assignments as of late, and hadn't been in trouble regularly (much).

Although interested in and worried with his best friend' life style, Takato knows the boundaries: if Akihito's minimally 'balanced', then he's fine (for now).

Kou does _not_. Know the boundaries, that is.

With innate worrywart abilities, he kidnapped Akihito's cell and proceeded to arrange a grand conference between market leaders - _-_ Takato, Yoshida, and himself (self proclaimed) - _-_ to discuss the need to, at long last, being introduced to Akihito's 'hot bomb of an older girlfriend, Asami- _chan_ '.

Takato scrunched his nose.

Yoshida clapped his hands and said: "Yeah!".

Takato thought to himself how fucking _good_ the usual shambolic celebrations sounded right about now.

Kou would not - _-_ could not - _-_ be detained, even more so with clown and/or joker Yoshida as his stalking horse; so Takato just sat down, smoked like a chimney of a fabric that not so secretly dumped its toxic waste into the river, and willed his gut not to be right this time around. As he dwelt in overrated misery, Kou beeped and beeped with Akihito's speed dial and waited for 'Asami-chan'-san to pick up.

Takato glanced at his wrist watch: four A freaking M.

 _No_ _good_ _._ _This_ _is_ definitely _not_ _good_ _._ A deep breath. Deciding that if it - _-_ the Apocalypse - _-_ was happening like that and it was inevitable, then at least it would be in his own terms, Takato took the cell from Kou and physically shook as the person on the other side of the line answered the moment he took hold of the object and brought it to his ear.

"Asami."

Recognizing the voice that took all of his doubts (if he still had any left, that is) from his gutter of a mind, Takato touched his cigarette to his lips but didn't take a drag. Lifting his hand up to massage his migraine bearing temple, he let his eyelids fall shut as he let his voice out - _-_ steady as steel and pretty normal sounding, or so his fairly above average self esteem seemed to encourage him with.

"Asami-san. Inariya Takato, Akihito's friend. I'm really sorry for bothering you in your sleep."

Even if Asami's voice didn't sound the least bit as if he had just been woken up, Takato was aware of the ungodly hour. The man didn't sound surprised by his phone call nor did he seem affected by it in any way. Takato asked his neurons how in the hell could he have perceived all that - _-_ made such assumptions from a single word uttered.

"Takato. I was working, there is no problem. Is something wrong?"

Okay, he wouldn't - _-_ and wasn't sure if he would ever be ready to - _-_ admit the pleasant feeling that that deep baritone sent down his spine as it worded his name. _Sorry_ _,_ _Akihito_ _._ _Forgive_ _me_ _a_ _moment_ _of_ _deviation_ _._ _It_ _will_ _never_ _happen_ _again_ _._

"Not at all. Our currently not in his right mind friend Kou insisted on contacting you, concerning Akihito's upcoming birthday. I... thought it better that I should talk to you in his stead." _And_ _how_ _and_ _why_ _are_ _we_ _familiarly_ _talking_ _like_ _old_ _acquaintances_ _when_ _I_ _'_ _ve_ _only_ _seen_ _you_ _once_ _while_ _more_ _drunk_ _than_ _sober_ _and_ _we_ _'_ _re_ _talking_ _for_ _the_ _first_ _time_ _,_ _not_ _counting_ _your_ _declaration_ _to_ _us_ _that_ _you_ _were_ _'_ _taking_ _Aki_ _home_ _'?_

"Oh. Sounds terribly interesting."

He _did_ sound amused.

"I'm all ears."

"If it would be alright with you, could we meet up? I'm afraid only I am aware of Asami-san' gender so I still have to drill such facts into the rest of the crew' heads. Also... I have been wanting to have a talk with you, privately, for some time now. About Akihito."

He had a feeling he was totally pushing his luck and was getting a tad nervous, even with the unexplainable comfortable feeling of talking with the other man. The answer was instantaneous.

"Of course. It would be my pleasure. I'll mail you the location of my office. Tell me which time is good and I'll make myself available for you. Hows does that sound?"

It would be impossible to contradict the man even if he didn't agree with his terms. "Perfect. Again, I'm sorry for the bother. Oh, and Akihito has absolutely no idea about this so..."

"I figured as much. My mouth is a tomb. I'll be waiting for you reply. Takato."

 _..._ _Okay_ _,_ _forgive_ _me_ _twice_ _,_ _Aki_ _._ "See you soon, Asami-san." Takato ended the call and released a breath he didn't know he was holding. He looked down at his hand to see nothing but the end of the filter and a half cigarette length of ash. He dumped it in the make do ashtray that was one of Akihito's cracked, horrendous looking mugs.

Sleeping, head bumped into the table, flooding the surface and almost drowning himself in his own drool, was Kou. Well, that explained the silence and quietness during the conversation. Yoshida was nowhere to be seen.

The screen went bright and the phone made a beeping sound once. He scribbled both Asami's contact and direction on a small scrap of paper and tossed it inside his wallet before returning Akihito's cell to the bed side table without waking him up. Pausing by the kitchen to drink a glass of water and then coming back to the living room, Takato let himself fall on the futon between Akihito's sofa and Yoshida's sleeping form on the floor, sandwiched between three and a half pillows. He grabbed the Play Station' controller, saved the game and turned off the television.

Takato took one last glance at Akihito's unknowing, innocent expression in deep slumber through the opening of the door and let a small snicker pass his lips as he fell down, sprawled all over the futon. He fell asleep shortly after Yoshida finally stopped snoring (when Takato smothered him with one of Akihito's favorite stuffed toys, which happened to be frolicking nearby at the moment).  
  
*  
  
In the morning, Takato unsurprisingly got up before the other three mummies, put his phone in the charger (his and Akihito's brand being the same kind) and sent Asami a message, saying he'd get out of work at around six o'clock and then he'd head over to their meeting place. He made everyone breakfast and, by the time they had all washed their faces and scrubbed the rheum off of the corners of their eyes, he had the table set.

A wrong feeling crept over him as he suddenly envisioned himself as the man wife of three inert, good for nothing slackers. He needed to get home and get a reassuring kiss from Mai. Soon.

Akihito and Yoshida attacked the eggs like pigs. Kou's stomach was not feeling happy and Takato served him of tea as he ate his own eggs sluggishly.

Takato left the three of them to fend off the dishes, the trashed around futons and the cans of drink all over the place, and he took his leave and drove home for a quick shower before going to work.

*  
  
"So you really are _that_ Asami."

"You already knew, did you not?" A rhetorical question from the pair of lips curling upwards in a smirk.

"Yeah but, you know that saying: _'_ _Hope_ _'_ _s_ _always_ _the_ _last_ _one_ _to_ _die_ _.'_."

Asami crossed his legs and made a hand gesture, offering him to take a seat.

"I'll cut to the chase. Your place is amazing; you're damn good looking; even with the little more than nothing but still all bad things I found out about you, I can't find in me to dislike you; I'm not - _-_ at all - _-_ against your and Akihito's relationship - _-_ whatever kind it is." He paused as he looked deep into Asami's golden orbs. They danced.  
  
"He's been happy lately. He's always been happy-go-lucky, the type that comes back up faster than how he went down. But lately he's been actually happy, finally, after all the shit that went down this year. I don't care that you dragged him into it nor that you saved him from it. He cares for you and he's okay now. I want him to keep up like this and if you're one of the pillars that allow it then... I'm all for it."

Asami listened to him patiently, intently. Takato was divided between thinking he'd get eaten alive or have his hair ruffled for being a good boy. A thought of Akihito having undergone both things appeared on his mind; he had no doubts about it. He had vomited every word he had wanted to say when he finally got the opportunity and finished with a 'older brother Takato' smile on his lips. He forced his stiffening form to relax and continued, "Also, Akihito's getting older but he's still very much a child. I'm hoping his mature lover 'Asami-chan' will keep looking out for him."

Asami's fine eyebrow rose in question. Takato mimicked his smirk.

Asami's eyes narrowed but there was nothing threatening on his gaze. Then the suit wearing man laughed and the amusement reached Takato's ears. The younger man was pleasantly surprised to how warm it sounded coming from such a seemingly distant, unreachable person.

He graciously rose, rescued his cigarettes from his jacket and, before resuming his seat, offered one to Takato. "I find you a very agreeable person, Takato. I really do."

It was amused, and arrogant, and above those two it was honest. Takato exhaled a grayish cloud and contemplated as the smoke resulting from both their cancer sticks involved each other in acceptance, very much like the two people smoking them had just done.

*  
  
"Sooo... Let me see if I got this right: Aki _does_ have an older lover, and this person _is_ called Asami-chan, and they _are_ really rich, _and_ pretty - _-_ "

"Hn, yeah, well... I'm not sure if you'll survive calling him '-chan', though."

Takato chuckled half amused, half nervously as he recalled a certain part of his talk with Asami: _"_ _Now_ _,_ _Takato_ _,_ _tell_ _me_ _more_ _about_ _this_ _moment_ _in_ _which_ _you_ _referred_ _to_ _me_ _with_ _such_ _an_ _endearing_ _honorific_ _._ _And_ _about_ _the_ _person_ _who_ _started_ _such_ _a_ _tradition_ _,_ _if_ _you_ _would_ _."._ He shivered at the memory and still couldn't stop from laughing on the inside at the suggestion of Kou and Asami - face to face – and... the mere thought of Kou '-chan'ing him around... It started smelling of spilled blood so he put a stop to the scenario playing on his mind.

Kou hummed playfully. "Him. So it really _is_ a guy."

He turned around on the rolling chair to smile hugely, from ear to ear, white teeth sparkling (and freakishly scary, to tell the truth) and pretend to angrily shout at Akihito - _-_ who was, at that moment in time, feigning his own death on Takato's couch, trapped under a mountain of stone make believe pillows.

"Aki, you never told us you were bi, you slut!"

His already non believable cover destroyed even further by the groan he couldn't suppress. Akihito decided that his inevitable participation in the conversation should start with bad mouthing Asami - _-_ the cure (or so he forced his mind to believe) for most of his problems.

"He's pretty, alright... on the outside! 'Cause his personality is shitty! Shitty, shitty, shitty, so, _so_ shit - _-_ "

"Yeah, yeah ~ We've heard it all before: _"_ _Your_ _stomach_ _is_ _black_ _,_ _black_ _,_ _evil_ _,_ _evil_ _,_ _evil_ - _ _-_ "_, or whatever." And then Kou couldn't take it and laughed hysterically, clutching at his belly. "Damn, it was hilarious, all that shit you spouted. 'N I was so drunk, I couldn't really pay proper attention to it. And to think I even talked with him on the phone that one time. Only Takato remembered everything, but then, fortunately, it started coming back to me little by little just when we started talking about it. Aa ~ , it would've been a shame to never get these memories back ~"

And then he died of laughter. Again.

Another rumble of increasing in volume groans as Akihito resurfaced from beneath the fluffy version of Mount Fuji. "It's fine if you forget all of it all over again! Anyway! It's better if you guys don't get involved any more than this with that... that... that bastard! He's made of trouble."

"Hn-uh. And that's why you can't stay away from him, naa, Aki?"

"That and he's pretty ~ "

"Sh-shut up! How do you guys know so mu - _-_ I mean, where did all of this come from, and all of a sudden too? _!_ "

"I already told you: Kou went double stupid, leeched onto your phone and dialed Asami-san' number. When I finally got it back, I ended up apologizing for Kou and put the pieces of the puzzle together while I was at it. It also helps how much you mumble about him when you're half awake."

Akihito's ears, cheeks, neck and whatever else was in sight, went red. "Wha - _-_? _!_ I do _not_!"

"Yes. Yes, you do. Don't make me give examples, Aki, you'll be the news tomorrow: _'_ _Twenty_ _three_ _year_ _old_ _young_ _man_ _,_ _promising_ _photographer_ _,_ _dies_ _of_ _embarrassment_ _.',_ and you'll be someone else's scoop. You don't want that, right?"

Akihito opened his mouth to shoot out a remark but gave up on it and gulped down a can of soda instead. "Gaahh, this won't dooo, I need alcohol, I need to forget this day ever happened, erase it from History..." And he kept going.

"What's the big deal? 't's not like we're prejudiced or anything. You know that, right, Aki?"

"Of course I know, it's not that."

Kou asked around a mouth full of chips, "What is it then?"

"..."

"It's not like I could just show up and say: _"_ _Hey_ _guys_ _,_ _this_ _is_ _my_ _... - _-__ Ugh. - _-_ _..._ _boyfriend_ _!"_

"Why not?", Kou asked innocently and genuinely curious, as though he really couldn't for his life understand why Akihito couldn't introduce them his cold blooded murderer slash sex god slash infuriating ass of a lover – _boyfriend_ _._ _Whatever_! It pissed him off.

"'Cause we're not like _that_! It's... it's complicated..."

"Why? You sleep together, right? Then he's your boyfriend.", Kou declared matter of factly, with a sense of finality and a dead pan tone that didn't really fit him.

 _Like, who the hell died and made him The Word Of God?_! _,_ was what Akihito wanted to question with a disbelieving yell but... he just closed his gaping mouth and conformed himself to imitate a tomato at the corner of the room.

Takato finished his work (or pretended to, anyway), closed his laptop and took off his glasses. "Kou is too damn simple,"

"Oi!"

"But I agree completely with him this time."

"Guys, dinner's almost, _almost_ ready ~ !" Mai shouted from the kitchen. Then she peaked from around the corner, searching for Akihito with her eyes. When she found him, she smiled mischievously. "You can invite Asami-san over to have dinner with us if you want, Akihito." And she was gone to the kitchen again, just like that.

Takato snorted quietly as Kou joked, "Aki, if ya go any redder than that you'll rot, ya know? Then you won't be reap to eat."

The memory of the tropical island and the tomatoes of doom, together with the day's occurrences, caused Akihito to implode and splotch tomato sauce all over the walls.

"Oh, awesome! Now we already have dressing for the noodles!, exclaimed Mai excitedly as she set the bowls on the table. "Takato, bring me the big spoon your mother gave us as a gift when we started living together and the new unused bucket. Aki was fuming so let's eat while it's still hot!"

"Wait! Wait, wait, _wait_! _Guys_ , we can't eat Aki!"

 _Finally_ _getting_ _some_ _common_ _sense_ _,_ _Kou_ _,_ _I_ _'_ _m_ _prou_ _- _-__

"'Cause Aki is Asami-chan' now, right? _!_ It wouldn't be right, _right_? _!_ "

" _That_ is where you think the problem is, you idiot? _!_ "

That night dinner at Takato's was pasta with tomato sauce à la Takaba. Kou saved a bit in a bright green Tupperware to give to Asami-chan later.

*  
  
A group of improbable people window shopping together for gifts for the person who is their focused, main point in common.

You had a seemingly normal young adult straight couple; one blonde metro sexual idiot; one brunette metro sexual idiot (to a lesser extent than the first, thank God!); an important, impeccable looking businessman, accompanied by two imposing bodyguards – the glasses user, intellectual type to the right, and the brawny, silent muscle headed hulk to the left.

They looked like a party of an RPG.

The hero and the princess. The joker slash dancer. The magician. The final boss, and the two minor villains.

*  
  
Takato and Asami - _-_ having the extreme opposite of what one would call 'sweet tooth' - _-_ stayed behind, smoking their lungs out, as everyone else (yes, Suoh and Kirishima included) went to buy ice cream.

"Sorry about this. I thought it would be interesting to prepare something together but, being the group that it is, it always ends up looking like a field trip wherever we go."

"I can see what you mean. Yoshida and Kou achieved the feat of rubbing off on my two men, it's actually very entertaining to watch them behaving like this."

The glint of wickedness on the orbs of gold as Asami observed the four people rampaging in front of the Café, didn't even try to hide from Takato's gaze.

"...You're such a sadist.", the light haired man scoffed, somewhat diverted. He only received a smirk in reply, that made his input even more apparent in terms of credulity, and utterly impossible to deny.

*  
  
"I'm at an impasse, you see. The thing he enjoys and loves the most is photography, obviously. I've already given him a camera as a gift, once."

Takato smiled. _I_ _know_ _._ _He_ _'_ _s_ _never_ _without_ _it_ _._

"He accepted it without a fuss. But the circumstances at that time are something I do not wish to see repeated."

He winced at the mention. He didn't know every single detail but he knew more than enough. He didn't care for a repetition either.

"And I had a dark room embedded into my penthouse, for when he stays there. I would like to give him something more. Take him traveling, let him see different countries, the whole World. For him to see through his viewfinder – through those eyes full of life of his. But should I give him plane tickets he would refuse, for being something he considers incredibly high in price; and if I put him to sleep and take him there myself, he'll wake up and make a scandal completely out of proportions about me kidnapping him. Again. That being said, you can see the why of my consternation, yes?"

Takato wanted to nod in understanding, cry, and laugh in simultaneous. He bit the inside of his cheek minutely before gathering himself. "...Yeah... Well, that's Akihito for you, he never liked receiving expensive stuff, even from people of the same standing as him, so it coming from you... Unless it's food."

They both smiled fondly as they pictured Akihito swimming in a pool of chocolate while eating a triple hamburger with melted cheese all over his face.

"But...", Takato continued, "I think if you ask him nicely, saying you want the two of you to be together in a romant - _-_ "

"That would never work.", Asami dead panned, cutting him off, sharp as a razor blade.

Takato dropped his hope filled, dreamy act and, in a monotone, assented his total agreement. Neither of them were to waste time in lost causes. "Not in this life nor the next. Just get him piss drunk and then play def to the abducting thing aftermath. After the hangover and as soon as he takes a peak at the landscapes he'll shut his trap."

Asami grinned. "I really like you, Takato."

They both butted out their cigarettes.

"It's mutual, Asami-san."

*  
  
"I don't like this. I don't like this at all...",

mumbled a slightly worried - _-_ 'slightly' being an understatement of major scale - _-_ Akihito, as he spied his best friend and his former occasional and now regular bed warmer being... friendly and... cozy and... and apparently _harmless_ ('Asami' and 'harmless' in the same sentence, unless it was a negation or variation of the kind, just wasn't a good omen) while secretly plotting against his person. He couldn't actually hear them but... he had this tiny little premonition that something _not_ good was about to happen. _Soon_.

*  
  
Least to say, Akihito wasn't minimally fazed when the three musketeers - _-_ Kou, Yoshida and Takato - _-_ appeared at his doorstep to drag him out to where his yearly demise would take place; he was completely expecting it, even.

What he didn't expect and did render him speechless, though, was to see a certain person he hadn't spoken with in more than two weeks (which had made him feel... not good... and kind of itchy, and he had thought he hid it well only he really didn't) dressed in the most casual attire he had ever seen the man in.

If you looked really hard to Akihito's face, squinted to the left and recited your favorite haiku poem backwards while jumping rope, you could read him like the palm of your own hand. With subtitles. That was Takato's sure to work (ninety seven percent of the time) method. In case of failure, blackmail with food and get him to down some beers - _-_ to lower his defenses - _-_ were the next two items on the list to do the trick.

So, with that, Takato could presently hear - _-_ loud and clear - _-_ Akihito's inner thoughts. And most of them wouldn't be suitable for minors. Let's say... more than half of them. But it's not a big deal because hardcore, smutty BL manga shouldn't - _-_ wouldn't - _-_ be read by under aged people. Therefore, neither should any sort of fan work inspired by it, as it would be the case of this fiction. ( _Yeah_ _right_ _!_ )

Recuperating from the shock, Akihito pinched his own and Yoshida's cheeks. Hard.

"Oww! What was _that_ for? _!_ "

"No... I get pinching your own but why other person' as well...?", Takato questioned, doing his job as the tsukkomi in the comedic number.

Pain bloomed and Akihito's face flushed pink from both the pinch and the dread filled embarrassment - _-_ or embarrassing dread, for short (aka not as long)? - _-_ that moved into the pit of his stomach. He went chibi form pretty fast, faster than a wink, and was bolting, running for it before anyone could stop him.

Asami was smirking, even as Granny and what seemed like all of the female (and some good part of the male) waiters working at the restaurant flaunted around him like bees pinning for sweet nectar.

Suoh and Kirishima came into sight, carrying a still struggling - _-_ always struggling - _-_ Akihito trapped between two of their arms, feet floating above the ground. He was kind of snarling and looking like a rabid dog and he still looked cute while he was at it. Takato laughed and knew Asami was doing the same without needing to look to confirm.

The Takaba package was deposited on Asami's lap. Takato could just picture a light being switched on and a computer programmed voice mumbling: _"_ _Delivery_ _complete_ _."_.

It was nothing (out of this World) special when Asami simply wrapped his arms loosely around Akihito's waist and said, "Happy Birthday, Akihito.", with a blank expression on his gorgeous face; but the bright, blinding smile that mere action tore from Akihito's lips was anything but ordinary.

*  
  
By the time they were finished with dinner there was barely any trace of food or drink left. Akihito had stuffed his food hole like a dromedary storing water in its one hump - _-_ as usual - _-_ but, for once, he only had a drink (instead of trying to show of to Asami, or just being plain obnoxious when he obviously can't take much and blowing his liver to pieces).

A lot of people were already dead to the World so among them, those who were still within consciousness, went home by themselves (although not completely safely), while the rendered completely immobile were driven home by Asami's chauffeur.

The small group of sober people - _-_ consisting of Asami, Akihito, Takato, Mai, Kou (already tipsy but he made a scene so they had to bring him along, regardless), and Akihito's childhood friend and fellow photographer, Azusa) - _-_ moved on to Club Kyuuzö, another of Asami's elegant establishments. Where Sion is quiet, contained, Kyuuzö is louder, more unleashed; where the first focuses on formal meetings, business associations, acquaintances by power and influence; the later prioritizes entertainment, diversion, fun. Kyuuzö divided itself into three major areas: the bar, the game room, and the casino.

Asami had given word of not wanting to be disturbed a priori, but still the manager came to him, as they were in the middle of a match of snooker - _-_ Asami and Takato VS Akihito and Azusa, where the second pair was suffering a crushing defeat on Texas Chainsaw Massacre scale). The amber eyed man excused himself for a moment and Mai giggled and choked around her cocktail as Akihito visibly pouted and gestured to throw the cue to the Club manager's head (or was it pushing it up his ass?). With three more drinks downed since they arrived, she wasn't so sure anymore.

Kou could barely keep steady on his feet, wobbling around on the dance floor - _-_ located in the bar area, which they had a good view of from where they were - _-_ until a brown haired girl taped him on the shoulder and blushingly asked if he'd like to join her for a game of Pinball. Akihito obviously couldn't have listened to what she had said exactly, they were fairly far away and the music playing loudly was an obstacle impossible to shield from, but he could actually read lips pretty well by now - _-_ it was greatly helpful on his scoops - _-_ so at least he could make that up of the two sentence limited conversation.

Takato observed as they left the dance floor, the girl practically carrying the totality of Kou's dead weight on her shoulder, and wondered if Kou would even be able to get the ball to go up, much less put it in the hole.

Asami came back and Akihito tackled him, arms around his lower back from behind, attached to him like a leech, as soon as he came into jumping & catching range. (After having pouted for ten minutes he had finally gotten himself one more dose of booze and Takato felt too relaxed and comfortable with Mai's lips on his jaw to even try to stop him from hijacking the bar keep.)

Azusa returned, shortly after, from the bathroom, half tipped over and mumbling about Kou getting it on against a toilet stall and snickering and: "Shit, wish I'd brought my camera - _-_ Hic!" (to which Akihito agreed with a nod), as she let herself free fall against Takato's other side.

Takato telepathically decided with Asami - _-_ who had Akihito's tongue down his throat and a hand up his shirt - _-_ that it was time they headed home.

*  
  
Takato and Mai were the last ones being dropped at their house and, after thanking Asami for the good time, they closed the gate.

Takato wondered, as he took off his clothes, if Asami was aware of Akihito's feigned drunkenness just to have an excuse - _-_ even more for himself than to others - _-_ to feel Asami up in front of everyone and blame it on his clouded mind later on. Then he mentally scolded himself. There was no way Asami wouldn't know, Akihito must have had no doubts about it either.

Still, he had given in. At least this once.

Takato yawned and, smiling, switched off the lamp.


	3. Trips To The Past 1.3 – The One Where Asami Caught The Flu (Or Was It The Flu That Caught Him?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami is sick. Kirishima is yakuza-sitting him and decides that: "If Asami-sama can't go out hunting, I'll just bring his prey into his den.", and proceeds to lure Takaba in. After all, he is one hell of a secretary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Picks up where Volume 6's extra 'Secretary's Duty' left off; so takes place sometime during Volume 6, after they came back from Hong Kong and before they start living together.

When the lift finally stopped moving and its doors came open, giving way to the top floor where Asami's penthouse suite supposedly was, Takaba checked the bag in his hand for the fifth or sixth time since exiting the mall and ran as fast as he could along the lengthy hall.

Only then did he notice he had pressed the wrong number and had ended up in the wrong floor. Fuck rounding back to the elevator; he settled for the stairs as he ran - _-_ flew right through - _-_ climbed up the endless steps.

Seven whole floors, he had counted. He should've given the mecha-transporter a second chance.

When he got to Asami's door, panting hard (from the not-really-that-much-of-a-distance, but quick-as-flash jog) he was welcomed by Kirishima, who dressed in a stripe-patterned apron on top of his ever-present unblemished duo: White Shirt & Tie. The apron had round buttons with Xs holed in them. It was kind of cute. Takaba would never voice it out loud; the love he felt for his life was rather very influential in that subject.

"Hey, what is it? I'm busy, you know? _!_...Here are the things you asked me to bring."

"Thanks."

Kirishima ushered him inside without much delay, not explaining anything and only pinning him with words of: _"_ _Don_ _'_ _t_ _make_ _noise_ _.",_ accompanied by a gaze that _dared_ him _not_ to do as he was told.

Takaba innocently nodded, an angelic smile painting his good looks (and inside the wheels were already turning and he was already strategizing the mischief he was about to summon) and Kirishima wasn't fooled by it for a single second.

Once inside, striding trough the entrance corridor, he took a tentative peek at the living room.

There was a... a _rose_ _-_ _faced_ Asami stretched on the sofa with a _thermometer_ stuck on his mouth, a wet rag _stamped_ on his forehead and a newspaper on his hands.

And The Ass still looked as almighty (and gorgeous) as peach.

Takaba couldn't decide how to react (To snicker or to cry in dismay or to drool at the unbelievably palpable sight, that is the question _!_ ). But Kirishima didn't give him time to ponder over it, nudging Takaba into walking in front of him and leading the brat away from that particular division, out of the beast's reach. It was not yet time. Though, thinking on it again, Kirishima wasn't _completely_ sure which of the two men was - _-_ would be - _-_ the beast in this particular situation...

 _..._ _No_ _matter_ _._ _At_ _any_ _rate_ _:_ not yet _._

As they got to the kitchen, Kirishima relieved Takaba of the burden of the shopping the older man had asked - requested - informed - ordered him to do and started putting everything in its rightful places. The only part of Glasses that could be seen now was his behind, as the man practically became one with the fridg - _-_

Whoa. Takaba was _so_ not ready for that type of paraphilia.

It was then that he saw it.

There was a... a pair of oven gloves on top of the counter. They were pink. And they had flower patterns on them.

"..."

There weren't many thing on the Universe that could leave Takaba Akihito speechless and reactionless, without at least a snappy retort or a kick to the jewels.

He had just been showered with two of them in a row.

*

Surprise took over Asami but didn't show on his features, as a blond photographer came strolling in front of him and deposited a tray with a fuming pot of tea on the low table.

Asami closed his eyes. The corners of his lips concealed the secret of a smile. "I'm torn, Kirishima. Should I give you a raise or get rid of you, do you think, seeing as you know me far too well for both our own good?", his barely-sickness-affected voice rasped out to the man whose presence he could feel a few feet behind him, to his right, without having to look.

"If you request nothing else of me, Boss, I will now take my leave. Dinner preparations are finished. I instructed Takaba-kun in the precise way to heat it up and get it ready to serve."

A chuckle. "You are much too serious sometimes. You may leave. Take the rest of the day off."

"Yes, Asami-sama. Right after I put an end to my office duties for the day."

Asami sighed and - _-_ "Do as you like for today, then." _-_ \- _indulged_ his most trusted assistant...?

"I don't want to have to lay my eyes on you for the whole of tomorrow, though."

…Ooor not.

This time it was Kirishima who sighed. He hid his frustration and displeasure at that order behind his perfectly clear lenses, bowed with all the respect he held for his employer and passed on the apron, as if a Dying Will, to the next generation bearer before leaving, satisfied with having finish his chores with such an ingenious final touch.

*

"C'mon, Asami..." Takaba grinned, even as he blushed a light pink. "Admit it _!_ "

"..." Asami just kept looking blankly at him.

 _He_ _looks_ _really_ _worn_ _out_ _..._ , Takaba thought. "You _really_ want me to believe you didn't plan this...?"

"I told you, I had no idea of Kirishima's little scheme."

The kid puffed his cheeks. Again. He was entirely much too cute for his own sake, or so Asami contemplated. He lifted the back of his hand and touched his own temple, without railing attention from Takaba into himself. The fever was rising.

 _Such_ _a_ _bother_ _._

Then, with the corner of his eyes, he saw Takaba finally let the air out from his puffed cheeks and a satisfied smile sat down on his features in its stead. The younger male stretched for the remote control and started flipping through the channels as he wriggled against the couch and arranged into a comfortable position.

Suddenly Asami coughed. In a very dignified, quiet, Asami-like manner, but a coughing fit nonetheless. Takaba was up in a second, getting him a glass of fresh water and resuming his place in the sofa, this time closer still to Asami.

After emptying the glass of its contents, the yakuza set it on table, next to the tea ware on the tray. His fingers and lips twitched for a stick of nicotine, smoky and burning on his tongue... He was out of cigarettes and had forgotten to tell Kirishima to buy more. Willing his mind to change its focus, he directed his gaze to Takaba, who was now kneeling on the carpet, playing around with the boxes of medicine (previously organized by Kirishima; currently scattered by Takaba) laying on the table, possibly checking the time they should be taken at.

Asami felt himself growing slightly dizzy. Golden slits narrowed. Sarcastic lips curled up, just barely. "You are having fun with this, aren't you." Not a question at all. Just pointing out a fact.

Takaba couldn't tell if Asami was annoyed, or amused, or what; he just knew the dark-haired man was looking like he'd seriously pass out any second now.

Asami was getting worse.

Takaba was not very happy with that. No, scrap that; Takaba was not happy, _period_. Because: Asami getting sicker = Kirishima getting angry. And when calm, collected Spectacles got pissed... Ugh, Takaba _really_ wasn't keen on getting on Kirishima's bad side. So the thing to do right away? Get the Cold Beauty (Oh _God_ , such a lame pun _!_ ) healthy again ASAP. Takaba's pulmonary functioning literally depended on the achievement of that goal.

He looked at Asami again, scrutinizing all of him. And then something hit him. Hard.

Electricity. Not even 'close' was needed; being at 'medium' proximity with Asami was more than enough for Takaba's skin to prickle.

That pinnacle of sin extended his hand, as if there was no other possible way to react but for Takaba to take it.

And there wasn't.

 _What_ _are_ _you_ _waiting_ _for_ _?_ , Takaba asked himself. _It_ _'_ _s_ _nothing_ _you_ _haven_ _'_ _t_ _done_ _before_ _._ _You_ _trust_ _him_ _,_ _there_ _'_ _s_ _no_ _denying_ _that_ _._ _There_ _'_ _s_ _no_ _time_ _to_ _waste_ _;_ _no_ _thing_ _to_ _lose_ _._ _Get_ _a_ _grip_ _._

He looked ahead, his cheeks tainted magenta and his _not_ trembling (like most times before) but steady (like they would from then on) fingers clasped with his captor's.

(Or was it his captive?)

*

Asami was falling asleep on Takaba's lap. Takaba's thought process wouldn't shut up with whispers of adjectives along the lines of 'adorable' and the light-haired male mentally slapped - _-_ punched - _-_ kicked himself at the danger and impossibility of it all.

Asami curled around him, his nose hiding in the hollow of Takaba's hip. Takaba's heart felt like beating out of his chest. _Fuck_ _._ _The_ _freaking_ _bastard_ is _cute_ _..._ He scrunched his eyes shut and counted to one hundred and thirty six.

It didn't help. At. All.

And what the hell was with Asami being all quiet and... _well_ fucking _behaved_ _._ _What_ _the_ _actual_ _fuck_ _._ Takaba _wanted_ to freak out, because it was weird and wrong but it felt so good and he was too tempered, mellowed by the hot chocolate he'd been sipping at and... and Asami, with his hair all ruffled and dressed in grey-shaded pyjamas, was warm and soft against him and... and he let his hand - the one that wasn't holding the orange and brown mug with an unpopular anime main character drawn in one side (that wasn't _at_ _all_ Asami's type of mug so it must have been bought especially for _him_ to use) - delve into the silky sensation of Asami's ebony locks. He looked sleepy, with an half-dazed look in his eyes when he gazed up at Takaba.

The blond didn't even try to resist the urge to lean down and softly touch their lips together.

"You will catch my cold.", he was told.

"Who cares."

Takaba most certainly did not.

*

He slid his palms under Asami's robe, disheveling the cloth. Cool, dry skin on sweaty, warm skin. A shiver tickled him from the tips of his fingers and he wondered if - _-_ wished - _-_ Asami had felt it too.

With Asami naked now, laying on the bath tub, Takaba gently wiped the other off of the sweat that had gathered on his body. The mood was strangely erotic, heavy with tension without turning overly sexual. The whip-corded, flushed muscles of the raven's torso wiped clean with the passage of the damp rag must have felt nice, as Asami sighed in impossible silence, relaxing under his apparently very welcomed ministrations.

Takaba was fascinated, in awe with the comfortable feeling that washed over him in what _should_ be an awkward, unwanted scenario. Only it wasn't. Far from it, even. He felt good, happy, with Asami's leisured expression in his presence. That the other felt comfortable enough with him to relax to such an extent. For a man always in control of everything and everyone he owned, including the both of them (yes, because Asami was just as hard on himself as he was on others, if not more; much, _much_ more), to let himself be taken care of, instead of ordering such to be done for him _just_ _because_ _he_ _could_ ; but simply accepting it when it was being willingly offered without him even expecting it.

Takaba dipped the sponge in the water once more and moved lower, to Asami's mile lenght legs, a smile controlling his lips.

"...enjoying this..."

Takaba was half-startled, half-confused at the words that had slipped from the yakuza. Startled because it was exactly the same his slightly parted lips had been about ready to utter. Confused; firstly because he wasn't sure if what had come before the broken sentence had been a: _"_ _You_ _are_ _..."_ or a _"_ _I_ _am_ _..."_ , and secondly because he had equal doubts concerning the punctuation at the end of that same broken sentence. Had it been a simple declaration? Or a question? Also... the tone the chain smoker had used made his mind spin, in more ways than one, scrambling for the meaning it held. And did it even _have_ a meaning in the first place...?

It had been so serene and unlike himself and yet it _was_. That baritone was impossible not to recognize in any circumstances.

"It's not fair... _You_ are so not fair."

"How so?"

Takaba leaned in and kissed his lips shut for the second time that day. Asami's eyes widened for a second and practically imperceptibly. Takaba couldn't have noticed it, regardless; what with his own eyes being tightly shut, his lashes battering like a moth's wings against Asami's flushed skin.

Asami could feel the heat emanating from the blonde's cheeks, as well as appreciate the alluring sight until he closed his own eyes and _behaved_ , receiving the gentle gesture of affection without teasing, for once. The boy's kiss tasted sweet, like everything about him. His wild, spiced sweetness - alike to chocolate with a fairly large tinge of pepper in it - was (and Asami was a hundred percent certain it would always be) the only sweet thing he was biologically capable of consuming, appreciating and indulging voluntarily even, without the massacre of his taste buds and digestive system.

When it ended, and both their sights came back and didn't dare turn away from the other's, he let the question float. "And, as pleasant as it was, may I ask the reason for such a - _-_ "

"It was just a 'get better' kiss. Don't get weird ideas, like you tend to."

A moment of silence followed.

"Then you better give me a second helping, just in case the first won't have effect."

"You... _!_ Don't push it, jerk _!_ "

"Does that mean you won't?"

Ugh. Why did Takaba feel like he was denying a toy to a sweet little kid... Asami did _not_ make puppy eyes (more like tiger cub eyes, really) and he did _not_ look... - _-_   _Damn_ _it_ _._ - _-_... _utterly_ _captivating_ ; all flushed with fever, eyes half lidded with the weight of sleepiness and fatigue. Perfect body drained with the exertion of hours or work without proper maintenance and rest. His lips were as full and inviting as ever. They were also close...

(Because the bed was surely growing as Jack's Beanstalk, not because Takaba was leaning down.)

" _Tch_. There's no helping you... Get up on your ass soon, bastard."

...He kissed them.

After that Asami wouldn't stop pestering him, so Takaba grumbled to the hell with it and that he might as well take a nice, much deserved soak in Asami's heavenly, paradisiac bath tub 'cause it had been a while and all, and proceeded to take off his clothes and deftly slipped in, joining the dark-haired male in the tub. Instead of sitting in front of the other, he took a seat behind Asami, leaving the him leaning against his chest, in the space between his legs. Asami's head fell back and the wet silkiness of his hair tickled Takaba's collarbone. He let his digits delve into the strands as he massaged the skull and shampooed. Multi-tasking.

Asami had put his hands high on Takaba's thighs, rubbing familiar patterns into his flesh and raising goosebumps, under the slow, barely there rippling of the water. The bare touch, the weight of his hands enough to ignite Takaba's body, leaving him on the brim with anticipation. The solid weight on his shoulder shrugged a bit, Asami's head slouching just barely to the side. It left his naked throat in plain sight, as if pinning for attention.

The photographer felt his lips go dry, even with the unbearable condensation of the bath, and wet them with a lick of the tongue. He pressed them to the skin taunting him.

"Are you attempting to take advantage of me in my weakened state, Akihito? Kirishima wouldn't be at all happy with such an outcome from his perfect plan.", Asami mumbles lazily, humorous.

"You've abused and harassed me from our very first meeting. I'm entitled to a little molesting myself. Besides..." Takaba leaves an open-mouthed kiss on Asami's neck. "...you _like_ _it_."

"Do I?"

The ash-blond male didn't seem very interested in verbally answering Asami's 'question-just-because-it-had-an-interrogation-mark-at-the-end' taunt, and just kept washing and kissing his illness away.

*

"I do not want anything to eat. Kirishima professionally force-fed me a lobster. I could go into hibernation by the fullness weighting my stomach."

Takaba couldn't help it; he tried to tame it to a tampered chuckle but ended up coughing out a loud heartfelt laugh, as his head tossed back almost ridiculously.

By the look of it, Asami's usually dark, morbid, alien sense of humor had a turn for the worst (or was it for the best?) whenever the man cooked a fever high enough to fry eggs on that magma-hot forehead of his.

Then, all of a sudden Takaba shouted a: _"_ _AH_ _!"_ and bolted into the kitchen and back with a ridiculous cyan blue plastic bag.

From the not-so-ridiculous-anymore bag sprang five new, shiny, beautiful Dunhill boxes. King size. Twenty cigarettes each.

Asami wanted to kiss Takaba. (Not surprising.) And Kirishima. (Well, it's not like it would be a first. But that's a story for another time.) ...And observing the reactions of both men to such an act as the latter would be the most entertaining, and Asami's very, very sadistic soul would shiver in some delight at the sure scandalous show his kitten would stage and act. All by himself.

He took a cigarette in between his lips, lit it up and took a deep drag, letting the bitter, deathly essence fill all of his senses.

Life was good.

*

"You are in possession of your key, correct? Do not forget to lock up when you leave."

"...You kickin' me out?"

Silence.

"I didn't realize you were planing on staying the night, seeing as you are always so desperate and in a hurry to leave as fast as you can. By all means, do stay over."

"It's - _-_ It's not like I was counting on staying or anything..." A wry, barely there chain of mumbles.

Asami _smiled_. " _Your_ _room_ is always ready for you."

"Mm."

Takaba followed Asami to the master bed room instead.

Fidgeting and looking sideways all the while, his excuse had been that he wanted to see Asami to bed and make sure he wasn't hiding any work-related papers under the mattress. Asami didn't buy it, of course, but he had to admit the kid didn't go easy nor had been half-assed, as he rigorously looked everywhere for a scrap of documents in the confines of the drawers, on the bedside table, and between every crease of the bedsheets.

Asami raised an eyebrow at the contented exhale of breath, that contrasted sharply with the scowl, Takaba released as he found nothing but his Glock under the pillow. It amused him infinitely.

Asami, being who he was, had to have the last biting word so... "What about my 'good night' kiss?"

It earned him a blazing glare and a show of the photographer's tongue.

"You wish _!_ ", came the already muffled comeback before the door slammed completely closed.

He took off the top of his pajamas, checked the weapon's safety lock and dived into the fresh cloth. From there, sleep quickly took over his Paracetamol-filled consciousness.

*

The image of a blond young man fiddling around in his laptop greeted Asami first thing in the morning.

And when said young man took notice that he was no longer alone, the thud of the laptop's lid colliding with the base tore away through the the air. The startled look on the boy's face was both entertaining and bewitching. It made Asami want to scare him more, corner him like a rabbit, just so he would reveal that beautiful glare that flashed wildly in a hazel ocean directly at nothing, at no one but Asami himself.

He took a step closer, and prevented any trace of amusement to show up on his expression. It seemed to do the trick, for those eyes switched to something akin to defensively aggressive (or was it aggressively defensive?) mode. His morning hard-on really would not go down on its own if it kept going like this. He turned around and went to the kitchen instead, to fetch himself a cup of black coffee. "At least erase the history registry. You do not want to embarrass yourself. Further."

Before the predictably possible: _"_ _Uh_ _?"_ slipped through, realization replaced the brief moment of not understanding and Takaba lit up bright red.

 _Here_ _it_ _comes_ _...,_ Asami mused.

"I wasn't watching _porn_ _!_ "

 _But_ _there_ _is_ still _something_ _amiss_ _- _-__

"PERVERT _!_ "

 _Ah_ _,_ _yes_ _._ _That_ _'_ _s_ _it_ _._ Asami grinned sharply. He was feeling better already. "Obviously. Why would you, when I am right here."

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"What you already know: that no one other than me is able to perfectly sate your needs. It goes without saying."

"Ha _!_ Impossibly large-ego'ed bastard woke up feeling whole again, I see. Well then - _-_ ", he said as he draped his bag over his shoulder. Takaba made a 'Yes, Sir _!_ ' army salute and waved as he made his way to the door. " - _-_ my duty here is fulfilled. I'm off."

Asami was on him before he got to turn the doorknob. Damn him. Was Asami a ninja? A yakuza ninja? _!_

"Not so fast. I still haven't properly thanked you for playing nurse, nor have I payed you for your services."

Takaba laughed nervously and averted the piercing gaze of gold while attempting to escape the cage of flesh of Asami's arms. "No need to. It was an act of charity, you know? Those stuff done for the needy, the invalid, the old peop - _-_ _Mmnnn_ _!_ " He didn't get a chance to finish his blatant provocation before Asami's mouth was too damn pleasantly smothering his. He didn't get the appeal of black, bitter coffee (although he did like the bitterness of the tobacco) but who the fuck cared when the tongue battling against his and spreading the taste all over belonged to the man who turned his World upside down, inside out and side ways?

"Did you really think I would leave proof of my business so conveniently well placed for your curious mind to be satisfied on? _Takaba_."  
  
Asami's moist breath against his own just-as-moistened lips sent him short-circuiting. "Fat chance. You think I'm - _-_ ", he shot back, still regaining his breath, " - _-_ you think I'm stupid? C'mon, Asami, you _know_ I'm not. And neither are you."

"Hn. Not watching pornography and not snooping. Do I even want to know the alternative? For you to have lowered the lid in such a hurry...", he broke the sentence for effect, the _asshole_. And then kept going. "...What are you keeping from me?", questioned the Devil, a whisper of seduction.

Takaba moaned in the back of his throat and wished for a one-in-a-million chance that Asami had missed it, even as the taller male enforced the interrogation with a sharp bite just below his jaw bone.

"You'll - _-_ _Ah_ _!_ _Nnn_ _..._ have to wait and see - _-_ _Aah_ _!_ "

"Cheeky brat."

"Don't you think for even a moment, Asami... that I'll do whatever you want me to do."

A smirk flourished on the mobster's handsome face. "I wouldn't dream of it."

" _Pfff_ _._ Do you even _dream_? I bet you'd be your dreams' worst nightmare."

And Takaba snickered. And Asami _had_ to smirk more profusely still (but it was more of a true smile than a sardonic one, and he didn't know how he felt about Takaba being able to tell the difference so quickly and accurately nowadays).

But then the moment didn't break but morphed; the light-hearted'ness of it giving way to something more serious, and Takaba continued from their previous topic without missing a beat, "I'll only ever do what _I_ want to do." and he got to the tips of his toes and plastered a kiss that was like a punch on those lips that he both craved and despised, for the all things they said and did.

And then he was gone. Camera bag in hand and grin on his face and shamelessly yelling, "Just in case you're wondering: that was a 'see you later' kiss _!_ "

Asami stood there for only a second longer and then closed the door. And as he did, there was grin adorning his face as well.

And, this time, the invisible-to-the-naked-eye, light, warm color that tinged him wasn't so much due to the little bit of fever that still lingered as for something else entirely different.

He was also dying to see what kind of 'attempting-to-be-embarrassing' photo had been applied to his computer's wallpaper this time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the hell have I written...? :')


End file.
